


The Santa Barbara Police Department Thanks Shawn Spencer for His Kisses

by BikeChanderson



Category: Psych
Genre: Kissing booth trope, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4427963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BikeChanderson/pseuds/BikeChanderson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lassiter and O'Hara are running a kissing booth for charity and Shawn's dreams are coming true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Santa Barbara Police Department Thanks Shawn Spencer for His Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been edited but if you see any errors please let me know!

**“The Santa Barbara Police Department thanks you for your donation.”** Lassiter could barely say the words without showing his blatant discomfort and anger. The lady that just kissed him had the gall to look affronted before walking away.

“Carlton,” O’Hara scolded through a fake smile. “At least try to act like you are enjoying yourself.” She grinned up at the next person in her line. “Hello,” she said with enthusiastic cheer before accepting a kiss and a five dollar bill from a complete stranger.

Lassiter looked up at the next person in his line and tried to smile. The guy responded with a terrified look before dropping a ten dollar bill in Carlton’s jar and leaning, hesitantly, forward. Carlton sighed before pressing a dry kiss to the guy’s mouth. This was humiliating. It didn’t help that after they separated the guy practically bolted away from the table. 

“The SBPD thanks you for your donation,” Lassiter called to the retreating figure. He lowered his voice before continuing. “This is ludicrous. I’m Head Detective, I shouldn’t be wasting time at a kissing booth. This is borderline prostitution, O’Hara.”

She pulled a face. “It’s for a good cause, Carlton.” She smiled brightly at a woman who dropped a twenty into her jar.

“Detectives shouldn’t be subjected to this. Why couldn’t the officers do the kissing booth?” Lassiter snarled near the end of his sentence even saying the words made him cringe. “A kissing booth, O’Hara. Not only is it disturbing that we are earning money for a children’s hospital by practically selling ourselves, the very idea of a kissing booth is completely juvenile. The sign says 18 years or older,” Carlton glared at the obviously under-aged girl standing in front of him. “Either show me some I.D or get the hell out of here.” The girl slid a couple dollars into his jar and walked away with her head down and face red. “The SBPD thanks you for your donation.”

“I think it’s charming,” O’Hara said, as if she didn’t just see what just happened. Carlton followed her dreamy gaze and saw an objectively attractive, well-built, man waiting in her line. The man smiled back at her and waved, raising his hand and wiggling his fingers. Lassiter groaned, sickened even more when O’Hara waved back in the same fashion.

“Really, O’Hara? This isn’t one of those tacky movies that you watch on your computer when things are slow at the station. And yes I know that you do that.” O’Hara pouted but chose not respond.

Lassiter went through three more kisses, one of them somehow managed to slip him some tongue, before hearing the voice of the last person he wanted to see.

“She was a waitress, Gus! We discussed this years ago! I hit on the waitstaff and you hit on the girls with boring well-paying jobs.”

“We never had that discussion, Shawn.”

“Yes, we did. It was after that waiter at The Jerk Shack gave you his number and then you said ‘Shawn, I’ll give you his number if you promise to never let this happen to me again’ and then you took the last piece of jerk chicken. By the way, you missed out, Jeremy was an experience.”

“I don’t want to hear about that, Shawn.”

“So you agree that only I am allowed to hit on wait—Lassie!”

Lassiter had just finished pushing the last person away when he saw Shawn and Gus coming around the corner, both holding sizable funnel cakes. He glared at them but didn’t respond. “The Santa Barbara Police Department—”

“Lassie and Jules at a kissing booth! My dreams just came true!”

“—thanks you for your donation,” Carlton gritted out. He watched as Shawn squeezed through the passing crown to get in line. Lassiter sat back in his chair and sighed heavily. He exchanged a confused look with O’Hara when they both noticed that Shawn had bumbled himself into Lassiter’s line and not O’Hara’s. He decided not to say anything, hoping that Shawn’s embarrassment when he realized his mistake would be a satisfying moment in the disaster that his day was turning into. He definitely wouldn’t allow himself to hope that Spencer was purposefully in _his_ line to kiss _him_.

Of course he had been in much more intimate situations with Spencer, he was pressed against Spencer’s back more often than was exactly necessary, but those situations he could hide behind his aggressive alpha-like personality. A kiss though, even one for charity, would probably lead Lassiter down areas he didn’t touch with Spencer, mostly for the sake of his own sanity. Spencer was irresistibly unbearable in the most annoying and adorably attractive way. He was easily the cutest and most irritating obstacle Carlton had ever faced in his entire career.  

“Hey, Jules, Lassie getting as much action as you?” Spencer called from behind a long line of people waiting to kiss Carlton.

“Yeah, we’re about equal,” O’Hara responded. Carlton didn’t understand why she always humored Shawn but looking at their jars he could see that they really were about equal. His cheeks warmed and a small smile reached his lips when he realized this, causing his next kisser to beam at him and pull on his tie and kiss him hard. Lassiter’s eyes opened wide in response and he could see Spencer peeking over the people between them, smirking. Carlton pushed the kisser away and growled a thank you. He was, however, a little pleased that he was getting as much attention as his partner even if it wasn’t from the person he wanted it to be from. He was also happy to be victorious over Spencer who seemed surprised by Lassiter’s equal success.

“How did Chief Vick wrangle you into this, Lassie? Or did you volunteer because your lips are lonely.”

“The SBPD thanks you for your donation.”

“If that was the case than all you had to do was ask.”

“The SBPD thanks you for your donation.”

“I’m sure Gus would volunteer!”

“Shawn!”

“The SBPD thanks you for your donation.”

“Jules, Lassie is ignoring me!”

“The SBPD thanks you for your donation.”

“Jules, since Lassie is ignoring me, what does twenty dollars get me? How about fifty?”

“Shawn, that’s my wallet!”

“The Santa Barbara Police Department—”

“Thanks you for your luscious lips!”

“Shut up, Spencer,” Lassiter stood up fast, scaring the girl who just put a five in his jar. Shawn was just a few people behind now with his usually mocking smile on his face. Carlton wanted to wipe that smile right off…possibly with his lips. Pushing all dangerous thoughts aside Lassiter felt like now was the moment to break the bad news to Spencer. “By the way, Spencer, you’re in the wrong line.” He bared his teeth in a hopefully intimidating grin.

He was expecting to see a look of shock or embarrassment on Spencer’s face, but a great fluttering and swooping feeling became alive inside him when Spencer merely grinned in response. “I don’t think so, Lassie,” he pulled a lecherous leer and took a step forward when the lady that was waiting for Lassiter’s kiss decided to walk away. “Are you afraid to put these fine lips to use?” Spencer ran some fingers over his mouth before continuing. “Afraid you’re going to like it too much?”

“I would rather kiss a democrat.” Lassiter replied though his heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his fingers. Spencer took another step forward as another person in Lassiter’s line gave up and walked away.

“I’m pretty sure you don’t have a choice in this. You are a public servant after all. Doing your duty, kissing these lips.”

Carlton Lassiter was a good detective, contrary to Spencer’s usual insults, so it wasn’t hard for him to spot a slight squeak in Shawn’s words and a nervous bounce in his stance. There were two possibilities, Shawn liked Lassiter and _wanted_ to kiss him or, a more likely possibility, Shawn was trying to play chicken with him. Carlton’s hopes deflated a little but he wouldn’t let Shawn win this round.

“I doubt you would be able to handle it, Spencer,” he placed his hands on the table and leaned forward, looking past the people standing between them, and stared Spencer down.

Spencer looked momentarily nonplussed before he recovered with a wicked smile. “I am a great kiss receiver, Lass. I’m also a great kiss giver. I’ve won some awards, not to be cocky or anything.”

“They don’t give out awards for kissing.”

“That’s what they want you to think so you don’t feel bad about not getting one. Don’t worry, I can put in the good word for you. I know the committee for good kissing, having kissed them all personally, I can give you a fantastic review, one to outshine all the terrible kisses you have given in the past.”

There was now no one standing between them. Lassiter could feel the rest of people around them watching the two of them, aware that Spencer was a spectacle wherever he went. Spencer held up a fifty dollar bill between his middle and ring finger, running the bill over Lassiter’s face before slipping it carefully in to Lassiter’s jar.

Carlton surprised them both when he grabbed the collar of Spencer’s shirt and planted a firm kiss. Spencer’s lips were surprisingly soft and surprisingly willing after a few moments of stiff shock. Lassiter, pleased that he could silence Spencer and fulfill some of his deeper desires regarding Spencer at the same time, let his tongue run along Spencer’s bottom lip. He realized he was getting a little carried away when he raised his hand up to Spencer’s neck but he could feel Shawn’s pulse palpitating at an insane rate under his thumb. He pulled away to take in a large gulp a breath before continuing his reckless behavior. Shawn definitely was a fantastic kisser and knew how to do wonderful things with his tongue but Carlton was more than up to the challenge.

Spencer’s hands were gripping tightly to Lassiter’s jacket and his tie, pulling him so tightly like he didn’t want Lassiter to pull away. He let out a quiet moan that Carlton to feel under his fingers over Spencer’s vocal chords and in his mouth. Spencer let out another moan that he felt in a completely different region of his body.

“Detective Lassiter,” if anything could ruin the moment it was definitely the Chief’s voice. He pulled away and tried not to smile at the weak, high-pitched, whine Shawn let out. His hands were still on Spencer’s neck and in his hair. It was then he noticed that not only was everyone still staring at them but that Spencer had climbed onto the table his knees digging into the red tablecloth. Chief Vick was standing next to O’Hara with her arms folded and her mouth in a tight line that seemed to be holding back a smile.

“H-he donated fifty dollars,” Carlton explained lamely as he tried to collect his breath and his thoughts, his fingers didn’t seem to want to participate in rationality as his thumb rubbed along the neck of Shawn’s shirt. Vick didn’t dignify his lameness with a response. She merely glared at the two of them, turned, and walked away.

Lassiter slowly dropped his hands away from Shawn as he looked around at the surprised faces around them. O’Hara was still sitting in her seat but her hand was over her chest and her face was a surprising shade of pink. Gus, who was next in line to kiss O’Hara looked partially annoyed and partially smug. Everyone else seemed to be coming out of the daze of watching two men make out in front of them. Lassiter refused to look over at Spencer who was still had a death grip on his clothing.

“Holy shit, Lassie!” Spencer’s voice was comically raised and Lassiter’s eyes finally snapped up to look at him, trying calculate some kind of, hopefully a pleased, reaction. The hand that was holding onto Carlton’s jacket moved to his tie so both hands were still pulling them close to each other. Spencer sat down on the table, pulling Lassiter down to his chair so he was sitting between Shawn’s legs. His hands automatically rested on Spencer’s thighs as he processed what just happened. “Holy shit, Lass! Holy shit! I have gone through your audition and I think we have a clear winner of the next best kisser award. You guys we have a _clear_ winner!” He finally let go of Lassiter to start clapping. A few people started clapping after Shawn but it only lasted an awkwardly short amount of time.

“The Santa Barbara Police Department thanks you for your donation,” Lassiter croaked out, he couldn’t help but smile up at Shawn who smiled back. They shared a pleasing warm moment. Carlton felt like he was in some kind trance, the lines between reality and dreams blurring.

“Gus,” Shawn said without breaking eye-contact with him. “I need to borrow fifty more dollars from your wallet that is in my back pocket.” He swung around on the table and headed back down Lassiter’s line, which was inexplicably longer with people digging desperately through their purses and wallets to find enough money.  

Gus managed to take his wallet back, leaving Shawn to pout in the back as Lassiter received more kisses from strangers, a lot of them trying to get the same kind of treatment as Shawn by donating ridiculously large amounts of money.

When Lassiter and O’Hara finished their kissing booth shift, leaving McNabb and a female officer to take over, Lassiter dug into his own wallet, pulled out a fifty dollar bill and pressed it into Shawn’s hand. Spencer grinned, pocketing the bill, and pulled Lassiter by his tie into a more secluded part of the fair.

 

  


End file.
